


i saw you and wondered the chance of you becoming mine

by thanatopis



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, E Rating In Future Chapters, Falling In Love, First Meetings, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:17:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9828851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: Keith’s never been in love, but seeing Takashi Shirogane in the library among the stacks has Keith reconsidering what little he knows about the elusive emotion. It’s just that, Keith is...Keith. He’s nothing special.Shiro on the other hand is their university’s golden boy with a bright future ahead of him. It seems a little too good to be true that Shiro would be interested in Keith, especially when he’s good friends with Dick Grayson, who’s gorgeous, clever, and alluring. Dick, however, has his eye on Jason Todd who inspires something unseen within him, something exciting and exhilarating. Either way, Keith just hopes Shiro wants him half as much as he does.Two love stories; one experienced, another one only seen.





	1. Chapter 1

Keith’s eyes were burning.

He’d crammed studying weeks of material into a night of productively that was all too common for him. Keith wasn’t a good student in a conventional sense; of course, he got his work done, passed his classes with the bare minimum of what he needed to achieve, and tried not to skip a class more than once a month. He might not be a shining example of the time smart and conscientious college student, but Keith didn’t rightly give a damn to be honest.

“Your face looks like it got run over by a fucking bulldozer, man.” Jason Todd teased as he came up beside Keith. He startled slightly, not having heard Jason’s approach, which was unacceptable and told Keith how out of it he really was.

Maybe pulling an all-nighter and chugging Monster energy drinks until his heart noticeably pounded inside the cavity of his chest hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had.

Keith didn’t spare his friend a look as he continued reading up on Microbiology and Macroeconomics—both classes he had exams in today. Keith’s books were piled high in a semi-circle around him, and in the middle, was his laptop, sticker bombed to high heaven with bands Keith unironically listened to and liked despite Jason’s distaste for _Bring me the Horizon_ and _My Chemical Romance_. The only band they could actively agree on when sharing a car was _Fall Out Boy_ , and Keith supposed that simple similarity in good music was how they remained friends.

His eyes had a manic, red rimmed look to them as he tried continuing with his studies, but it was an uphill battle that he was steady losing with each stinging blink.

Jason whistled lowly with sudden understanding and as much sympathy as a guy like him could give, which wasn’t much. It was widely known how much of an asshole Jason was.

It was a wonder how anyone, let alone _Jason Todd_ , could remain completely sane while going to school full-time, working a part time job, and still manage to have social life on the weekends. Honestly, it was a complete wonder how they were friends. Even on good days, Keith could barely function enough to keep himself regularly fed on a diet of Coke Zero and chicken and shrimp flavored ramen noodles.

“Goddamn Keith, how long have you been at it?” Jason asked, sipping at his coffee.

Keith hated Jason for that short moment, at how well rested and refreshed his friend looked, while he on the other hand probably smelled like yesterday’s BO. His hair was also limp with grease, sticking up in every which way as Keith had pulled and tugged at the roots in frustration when a question wasn’t easily solvable as he would’ve liked.

Keith sighed, recognizing himself as a mess.

“Since nine last night,” Keith murmured. “I took a couple of breaks in between to get some Monsters and piss, but that was pretty much it.”

Jason winced.

“When’s your exam?”

That was a good fucking question.

Keith checked the right-hand corner of his laptop screen, brows rising with false surprise.

“ _Oh_. In fifteen minutes. That’s just _great_.”

Jason snorted, shaking his head with fond disbelief.

“You gonna even make it? You honestly look like a zombie, and that’s _without_ the stench.”

Keith made a face. He flipped Jason off as sniffed self-consciously at his red hoodie, finding it to be… _okay_. It wasn’t horrible or anything; no nose hairs were going to singe when he walked into a room. He’d shower and take a nap after the exam was finished. He had a five hour break in-between today’s classes and thanked the lord for small mercies.

“Let me at least walk you.”

Keith agreed and began packing up his things with a subdued finality, hoping that his all-nighter had been worth the crippling exhaustion—that he knew a little more than when he’d begun. Keith at least hoped he did.

While Keith and Jason walked through the stacks towards the exit, Keith’s eyes caught and lingered on a set of broad shoulders and a wide back, admiring the muscles that no doubt resided underneath that thick crème colored cable-knit sweater.

The weight of Keith’s eyes must have been a tangible, heavy thing because almost as quick as he caught sight of the man, those eyes were turning, shifting onto Keith with his unkempt hair and frumpy appearance, and the stranger studied him up and down indifferently before he smiled empathetically at the bags under Keith’s eyes.

His attention turned back towards the book he’d pulled from the shelf, flipping through the pages, paying close attention to whatever he needed to find as his hand smoothed slowly down the page.

It was a shame, really when those eyes left him. Keith had never seen someone as attractive as the man, and those eyes on him had made Keith feel a spark of interest that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was both concerning and exciting, like being on a roller-coaster and feeling your safety belt give when you were upside down in a loop.

Keith could barely keep his curiosity contained as he elbowed Jason in the side, gesturing back towards the library with a lazy jerk of his head as if to seem completely aloof.

“Who was that guy?” Keith asked, trying to put a cool edge on the eagerness in his voice. “And why does he make that white streak in your hair look 10 times cooler?”

Keith snorted loudly when Jason had the gall to look legitimately offended.

“Oh, fuck you Keith.” Jason cursed, running a hand through his tuff of hair self-consciously. “At least I’m not rocking an 80’s mullet, loser.”

“Touché.”

* * *

Takashi Shirogane, Keith learned over the past few days, was the textbook definition of a star on the rise.

Honestly, it was kind of both amazing and sad at how Keith hadn’t heard of him despite Takashi being so integrated within the campus’s student life, but maybe that was the reason why. Keith had no interest in joining clubs or making friends.

Takashi obviously did not feel the same. He was an active participant in Student Government, the president of the Asian Student Association, and was the ace of the goddamn swim club.

He was everywhere and Keith was suddenly starting to notice.

“The whole school has a hard-on for him basically,” Jason said offhandedly as they were walking across campus towards the cafeteria. The wind was relentless, a biting chill that cut through Keith despite wearing layers upon layers and a thick wool scarf that covered the bottom half of his face.

Born and raised in Arizona, Keith didn’t fare too well with the cold. Keith ran on a permanent dial of hot it seemed. However, the Bachelor of Music program offered in Buffalo excelled anything that had been in Keith’s neck of the woods and moving, while daunting, had been a no brainer.

Even though Keith probably would never admit to it, the change in scenery had helped him a lot with his feelings of inferiority and self-doubt. They still lingered of course, but they weren’t as crippling as before in his small town.

Keith looked to his friend, wondering.

“So, does that mean you do too?” Keith asked, curious.

He knew Jason was openly bisexual, but had never seen his friend take an active interest in someone of the same sex. Keith often contemplated what kind of guy would make Jason Todd a blushing, stuttering mess, shattering that devil-may-care attitude. Keith would pay to see it.

Jason snorted and gave Keith a skeptical side-eye.

He was dressed in a red and white biker jacket, zipped up to his neck, and a dark gray beanie covered his studded ears. Jason didn’t seem to notice or care when random people passing by stared at him, used to the appraising looks. Keith got his fair share too—he knew he wasn’t a bad looking guy—but it always made him feel awkward and too-small for his body.

Keith had to resist the urge to give one his jackets to Jason in fear that he was going to freeze right down to his boots. He had to remember Jason was a New England native and was used to these brutal winters and dressed rather unwisely because of it.

Jason shook his head. “Nah, golden boy really isn’t my type.”

That threw Keith for a wide loop because Takashi Shirogane was attractive enough to shatter anyone’s “type” deviation.

Jason was just _crazy_.

Keith looked at the other man with narrowed eyes because that _had_ to be utter bullshit. Keith wasn’t buying it. His gaze seemed to communicate that same sentiment and Jason threw his hands up in a defensive manner, eyes wide.

“What? It’s fucking true. He’s not my type.”

Keith threw his hands up too, but in an exasperated manner because this was it—he couldn’t be friends with Jason Todd anymore, it was final.

“How is he _not_ your type?” Keith practically yelled, probably looking enraged by how the girl in front of them turned her head because of the outburst, then proceeded to quickly shift her attention to anything other than Keith’s passionate eyes.

Jason sputtered, tripping over his words as he tried coming up with an explanation that would satisfy Keith.

“Holy fuck, you gremlin. He’s just not,” Jason said, rubbing shyly at the back of his neck. “For one, he’s like…my size, maybe even bigger, and I’m just not into that. However, I _can_ appreciate him on a purely aesthetic level, so I can understand your little school boy crush.” Jason teased with a shit-eating grin.

Keith scoffed at that wording— _school boy crush_ —but he was fascinated enough with this sudden insight into Jason’s sexuality to ignore it.

He only knew Jason was into guys because of that one time, when they’d first met last year at a typical frat party and decided they were going to fuck, but then Keith had thrown his guts up all over Jason’s shoes and passed out right after in a heap on his floor. Keith had been lucky to find the one guy out of hundred that took care of him instead of making him into another tragic college statistic. He nursed Keith back into excruciating sober health and had even made him pancakes in the morning.

In Keith’s fucked way of making amends, he had even shamelessly offered his ass as a means of saying ‘thanks for not being a piece of shit, now here’s your reward’ without having to say any of that embarrassing spiel. Jason had politely declined the offer and they went about their day, finding that they meshed quite well as friends, and friends only.

Ever since then, Jason had only gone out with a few girls here and there, nothing serious. He didn’t talk much about what he liked and Keith was curious.

Currently, he was connecting the dots alarmingly fast, like a kid with a bright red crayon and a mission.

“So…” Keith drew out, deceptively light, thankful his scarf covered his self-satisfied smirk. “You like your boys smaller than you…” Keith deduced like a perverse wannabe Sherlock Holmes. “That tells me two things: you either like to completely dominate these guys or…” He left the implication to dangle in the air over Jason’s head like a carrot, watching the realization transform his face as the tips of his ears suddenly went red. “Or you like being dominated _by them_.”

Keith’s eyes indulgently took in Jason’s six foot two frame, bulky shoulders, wide chest, and narrow waist in a slow eye sweep and hoped in a pure platonic way that the latter was truly Jason’s preference.

Jason’s eyes went comically wide, hands coming up in half-aborted motions as if to cover himself from Keith’s prying eyes. He had a good laugh at Jason’s expense.

“You’re absolutely horrible,” Jason said weakly.

Keith shrugged without a care.

From there on they walked in companionable silence as Keith checked the time on his phone, along with his non-existent messages from his non-existent friends. Keith wasn’t paying attention as he neared the entrance and collided hard into a solid frame. Papers fluttered around their heads before several books tumbled onto the floor with a heavy crash.

Keith’s head shot up in mortification, uselessly trying to catch papers that fell right through his fingers.

“Shit,” Someone cursed. “This _would_ be just my luck.”

“Oh shit, dude— _fuck_ —I’m so sorry.” Keith said, crouching to pick up several Criminal Law textbooks and several papers that looked like complex, detailed essays. Some of the terminology Keith managed to spot was enough to make his head throb with on oncoming headache.

He looked at Jason out of the corner of his eye, wondering why his friend was just standing there and being completely useless. Jason would’ve at least helped a bit or would’ve called Keith an idiot or a klutz by now, but he was still as a steel pole on a windy day. It was odd, uncharacteristic behavior, but when Keith raised his head to hand several books back, Keith understood why Jason was utterly speechless.

The guy he’d bumped into was pretty, obnoxiously pretty, so pretty that it immediately pissed Keith off. His eyes were also distracting; a shade of too-blue that made his irises look like they were made with an intense kind of consideration, giving him an unnerving penetrating stare.

The man was dressed in a black turtle neck sweater and a deep navy blue pea-coat, looking like he’d just stepped out of a GQ photo shoot rather than attending class. He was sleek and lithe, delicate in a masculine way that inspired respect and attention.

Even though Keith had been the one to bump into him and was offering his things back, the man’s eyes had settled onto Jason and lingered before he shifted his attention onto Keith, which Keith saw took _effort_. Those eyes dimmed a bit when they turned onto him, but the man still kindly offered his thanks as he took the books and papers into the cradle of one of his arms and offered Keith his free hand to help him back onto his feet.

“Thanks, man. It’s no big, just be more careful next time.” The man said. Keith was sure that if it had been anyone else, he would’ve scoffed and rolled his eyes at the big brother tone that the man used, but it was honest and sincere and Keith couldn’t help the obedient nod of his head.

“Thank again,” He said to Keith kindly, but his eyes strayed to Jason when he said. “Hopefully I’ll see you around.”

“…Uh, yeah,” Keith said after a moment because Jason was still staring at him with this dazed, awed expression and it was embarrassing and awkward if the silence remained otherwise. With a subtle shove, Keith nudged Jason with his shoulder and only then did Jason nod his head, garbling out some abomination of a word that was a mix between _cool_ and _great_.

The man laughed softly as if charmed by Jason’s nervous fumbling and the effect he obviously had on him. He bid Keith and Jason goodbye and strolled away with a noticeable pep in his step.

Keith’s lizard brain instinctively watched his hips subtly sway side to side and he whistled low enough for just Jason to hear. He turned expectant eyes onto Jason who was watching as well, except his eyes were lidded and his teeth dragged along his bottom lip with a low, appreciative sound.

“You wanted to know my type,” Jason began, voice noticeably breathy in quality. “There he just went. _Goddamn_.”

* * *

Keith didn’t see Takashi for two weeks after his first glimpse in the library.

There wasn’t a dire, all-encompassing need to see him, but the hope remained that Keith would somehow spot him from the corner of his eye and admire him from afar like everyone else probably did.

There was an eatery on campus that Keith was in the mood and had money for and walked the ten minutes to the stir fry joint that was nearly packed. Keith got his food and sat down at one of the few open tables that was slightly sticky, but Keith didn’t mind as he began to dig in, not having had breakfast before which consisted of anything he could find laying around; a granola bar, a bottle of orange juice, half a candy bar shoved down deep inside his backpack.

It was a decent meal for eight bucks—worth it, Keith thought.

Jason would be proud that he’d wasn’t chowing down on ramen noodles for a change.

Keith easily tuned out the chatty buzz of the restaurant with his own insistent thoughts about nothing and everything as he drifted on white noise. He tried not to feel self-conscious about eating alone as he noticed everyone else where in groups of two or more.

He checked his phone absentmindedly while he ate, re-reading the funny texts from Jason’s morning rage because he’d just been assigned a butt load of homework for the upcoming weekend and that interfered with _plans_ apparently. After Jason ran out of his brand of colorful phrases, he’d reverted to using knife and fire emojis.

Keith wanted to feel bad for him. He really did, but it felt good to know Jason was like the rest of them—drowning in school work and deadlines.

“Hey man, I know this is kind of weird, but do you mind if we sit with you? We’ve kind of already met when you think about it.” An oddly familiar voice said.

Keith’s head jerked up, almost dropping his phone as he shortly fumbled with it. He felt his mouth gape as the pretty boy with the unnerving blue eyes that he’d run into a few days ago and _Takashi Shirogane_ , of all fucking people, stared down at him expectantly, waiting for his response. Takashi stood some ways away from the table unlike his friend who sort of hovered over Keith, like he didn’t want to assume or put pressure onto Keith to say yes. A considerate guy.

Keith’s eyes darted quickly around the restaurant; the place had only gotten busier and Keith was sitting at one of the bigger tables that seated four.

“Uh,” His head swam for a response. “Y-yeah, no problem.”

As they sat down, Takashi right across from Keith, he hurriedly moved his items closer to him so they wouldn’t seem so big and obvious. He was suddenly self-conscious about this backpack, decked out in patches that he collected over the months that clearly showed his thoughts on several political matters, his love for 80’s movies like _The Lost Boys_ and _The Goonies_ , and his taste in music.

He caught Takashi staring and had the resist the urge to fidget.

“ _Rites of Spring_ are one of my favorite bands too,” Takashi said. “There was just something about the music back then that was just electrifying and inspiring—made you wanna go fight the government and set fire to corrupt institutions.” He softly brushed over one the patches on Keith’s backpack. He watched Takashi’s fingers, practically drooling over how beautiful and strong they were, at how delicate they touched Keith’s property. “I’ve never heard of this one through. They any good?” Takashi asked, brown eyes incredibly warm as he looked up at Keith and he felt himself being caught like a fish on a hook.

Keith couldn’t form words, not yet, so he nodded his head, swallowing down the huge lump in his throat and hoped the heat he suddenly felt wasn’t too visible on his face.

“Sorry, I’m forgetting my manners.” Takashi said as he collected a big, heaping bite on his fork. “I’m Takashi Shirogane, but everyone calls me Shiro.” He gestured towards his…friend, the pretty boy who had already began stuffing his face like he hadn’t eaten in years. “This is—”

“I’m Dick!” Pretty boy interrupted excitedly, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes, I know. Please hold off on the jokes. I’ve heard them all.” Dick good-naturedly teased and Keith didn’t know what to say, so he relied on the first thing that came to mind.

“God, I at least hope your last name isn’t _Johnson_.”

He was horrified, but then Dick snorted loudly, the power of it rocking his shoulders and Shiro in turn, laughed with him.

“I know, right?” Dick said. “The name on my birth certificate is actually Richard _John_ Grayson, though. My parents have a wickedly _sick_ sense of humor and the nickname just took. I can’t get rid of it now.” He shrugged like there was nothing he could do; however, it didn’t sound like he _wanted_ to do much.

“What about you?” Shiro nodded at Keith, taking a bite.

 _Oh_. Right.

Having the brunt of his attention was highly distracting.

“Keith. Kogane.” Keith said. “I know. Very basic, dry first name and then that little bit of ethnic spice hits you with, Kogane.” Keith tried for a smile when he realized he was being weird about his name. “Uh, nice to meet you both.”

Shiro smiled at him and Dick offered the same sentiment through a mouthful of food.

“Don’t worry, it’s a nice name. Has a nice cadence to it,” Shiro told him and Keith blushed, averting his eyes.

“Thanks.” He mumbled out.

They lapsed into comfortable silence as they traded conversation for eating.

Keith was too aware of himself, of his movements no matter how big or small. He almost sighed in relief when his phone vibrated in his pocket; Jason wondering where he currently was so he could come hang out. Keith tried to keep a cool calmness about him as he practically vibrated in his skin because Jason was going to _freak_.

 **me:** i’m @ the stir fry place up the street…you’re gonna shit your pants when i tell you who asked to sit with me

 **jason:** who?

Keith slyly took a picture, taking care to make sure the flash and the shutter were off and sent the picture to Jason.

 **jason:** HOLY SHIT

 **jason:** HOW THE FUCK

 **jason:** WHAT THE FUCK

 **jason:** IM ON MY WAY.

 **jason:** IM RUNNING.

 **jason:** PEOPLE ARE GIVING ME LOOKS

Keith cleared his throat, trying to mask the laughter that wanted to rack his shoulders.

He tried not to watch the door in anticipation, but then Jason arrived an impressive five minutes later, looking wind blow and rugged in his motorcycle jacket, looking like he just come back from an afternoon ride. He raked a hand back through his hair, smoothing down over his undercut as his eyes roamed the restaurant. His eyes sparkled when he spotted Keith’s table and waved with a two-fingered salute, a gesture Keith returned half-assed.

Shiro and Dick noticed and curiously turned their heads. It was both amusing and interesting to watch the full body shutter the racked over Dick’s back at the sight of Jason practically strutting up towards their table. Keith and Shiro seemed practically non-existent in that moment.

Jason caught Dick’s eye and held it captive before shifting onto Shiro, sizing him up.

Shiro did the same, but with a bit more delicacy, taking in their obvious similarities and differences.

Keith grappled for what to say.

“Uh, this is Jason. Jason Todd.” Keith began. “He’s kind of an asshole, but he means well…” Keith’s mouth took on a wiry twist. “ _Usually_.”

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Jason greeted charmingly, unfazed. He coolly fell back into the seat besides Keith, picking through the food that remained on his plate. He apparently found nothing worth scavenging as he pushed the plate back into Keith’s direction.

“Jason, this is Dick Grayson and Takashi Shirogane.”

“But Shiro’s more than fine,” Takashi softly reminded him. It seemed like it was more for Keith’s benefit than Jason’s as their eyes met and held. Keith’s heartbeat sped up because of what he saw in Shiro’s gaze, a look that made Keith’s face heat and his body tingle, and he startled when Jason interrupted the moment with an amused snort.

Keith’s head shifted quickly in his friend’s direction, frowning when he saw Jason looking indulgently between the both of them, gaze heavy with implication and meaning. Before Keith could ask him what he found so fucking amusing about the situation and potentially embarrass himself further, Jason’s eyes fell onto Dick’s, completely ignoring Keith and Shiro like they were mere place mats set for decoration.

The other man hadn’t taken his eyes off Jason yet and Keith shifted, feeling like he was intruding on something private because they both oozed a particular kind of sex appeal and when that came together, Keith was sure it would explode.

He wanted to be far away as possible when it did happen.

“I’m being forward here, so forgive me, but you’re not dating him, are you?” Jason asked Dick, gestured to Shiro who’s eyes went wide. Keith was sure his eyes went wider though.

“See, this is what I meant about him being an asshole,” Keith murmured.

Dick only laughed, tilting his head in careful consideration.

“No, Shiro and I aren’t dating, we’ve never dated.” Dick began slowly. “Actually, I’m not seeing anyone now. How lucky for you…” He pointed to Keith. “Are you dating him? Dating anyone?”

Jason bit his lip and shook his head. “Completely free.” Jason proudly announced as the corner of his mouth quirked. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

A throat cleared.

“Should we leave? We can leave.” Shiro said blandly. It sounded like he was used to this kind of occurrence, that he was often the third wheel when Dick caught the eye of someone who interested him.

Keith sighed like he was suffering and put his head into his hands.

Jason and Dick just ignored them.

“Yeah…” Shiro began skeptically, eyeing them back and forth. “I’ll catch you later Dick. It was nice meeting you Jason.”

“See you tomorrow, don’t do anything _I_ would do.”

“Yeah, catch you later, swimfan.”

Shiro paused at the nickname, then chuckled as his eyes turned onto Keith expectantly.

“I don’t know if you drink coffee, but there’s this really nice bakery two blocks from here that has amazing cappuccinos and croissants.” Keith was still reeling from the sound of Shiro’s laugh to truly understand what Shiro was about to ask him. “My treat, you know, if you’re up for it. I’ll have you back home before dark.” Shiro joked, shyly scratching at the back of his neck.

It didn’t occur to Keith that he was technically being asked out on a date. The presumptuous idea that Shiro _might_ be interested in him almost made Keith’s head combust right there on the spot.

It took effort keep his voice calm and cool, retaining that aloof nature he was known for.

“Oh. Yeah, that would be cool.”

“Alright then, it’s a date.”


	2. Chapter 2

The walk to the café wasn’t that long of a stroll, but every second spent alone in Shiro’s company was excruciating only because of the way Keith was incredibly cognizant of the man next to him. Shiro was taller than Keith—that much had been obvious from the get-go—but Keith hadn’t realized just how tall Shiro stood in comparison to him. His head only came up to Shiro’s shoulder.

There was something about their height difference that made Keith’s stomach flutter with giddy anticipation. For what, Keith couldn’t exactly pin point, but it was heavy weight inside his gut that poked and prodded, simply impossible to ignore.

Keith was also incredibly aware of his own body in relation to Shiro’s.

As they walked close, Keith’s arm would occasionally brush up against Shiro’s side and gain only a hint of the warmth he carried underneath those clothes. Keith had to pretend like each brush wasn’t pure lightening to his nerves and pointedly ignored the knowing smirk Shiro was trying to hide as he stared straight ahead.

 _God_ —Keith had forgotten just how _horrible_ this was.

When was the last time Keith had felt this way about another person? And so quickly too?

There had been that one guy in his junior year of high school—Conner—who’d helped Keith come to terms with the fact that he was gay. Keith had had the urge to kiss Conner every time the boy so much as looked at him with his pretty green eyes, but in the end, Conner announced that he’d be moving to Florida at the end of the year, and Keith immediately doused the budding fire of his feelings with a cold dose of reality.

There was no use caring about someone that was only going to leave you in the end.

That had been a little over four years ago, and Keith was just starting to remember why he actively tried to avoid catching feelings.

It made him like _this_ for one.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have called it a date,” Shiro said offhandedly as they waited at the edge of the crosswalk. Keith rocked back on his heels impatiently, ticking down the seconds until the light changed in their favor. “That was a bit forward of me. We can just ignore that I said it, if it makes you feel better,” Shiro good-naturedly teased.

Keith rolled his eyes and scoffed quietly, but his persistent flush gave his real feelings away.

There was a pause before Shiro chuckled under his breath at something unknown as they took off walking again. Keith perked, turning his head to stare at Shiro as his brow arched with an inquiry. He only let Keith in on his thoughts when Keith was practically bursting at the seams with curiosity.

“What? C’mon, what’s so funny? Stop being a stickler,” Keith nudged Shiro with his elbow encouragingly. 

Shiro’s following grin was wide and impossibly bright.

“It’s nothing—just a dumb, passing thought. I’m lame as hell—as you’ll probably come to realize,” Shiro explained, but Keith persisted. He wanted to know.

Shiro sighed and gave in. “Just two dudes at a cafe, staring into each other’s eyes—being guys. Nothing gay about that. No siree.”

There was a bout of prolonged silence before Keith snorted loudly with enough force that it rocked his shoulders.

Jesus. Shiro was a fucking _nerd_.

It was a comforting revelation.

“You utter, walking, talking _meme_ ,” Keith breathed, bewildered. “God, you’re gonna be _that_ guy, aren’t you?”

It didn’t sound like Keith minded however.

Shiro laughed, bright and loud, and it brought a wonderful color to his cheeks. Keith couldn’t help but to bask in the warm glow of it, letting the sound seep deep into his bones; the feeling was reminiscent of the sun on his face. Shiro looked down at Keith, his eyes fond, threatening to melt something within Keith if he stared long enough.

Keith blushed, feeling heat bleed all the way down his neck and pool at the tops of his shoulders. A heavy lump formed inside his throat that was difficult to swallow and Keith loudly tried to clear the block away. His eyes lingered on Shiro’s face before he was breaking that magnetic connection, looking straight ahead once again.

“I don’t know what it is, but I have a pretty strong feeling you’d enjoy it if I was that guy.” Shiro said, attractively confident and cocksure, and Keith hated that he was absolutely right. Keith’s tongue went limp for a smart response, so he made a non-committed sound and shrugged like he had no care whether Shiro ended up being that guy or not.

As they approached the front of the shop, Shiro took great strides to make sure he reached the door first. Keith arched his brow, perplexed, before Shiro opened the door and held for him with a smile that was boyish and lovely, his arm gesturing ‘after you.’

If Keith had been alone, he would’ve took a moment to commemorate the fact that Takashi Shirogane was that kind of boy-next-door that eagerly held open doors because his parents had probably raised him to value being a gentleman. It was charming as hell and a bit of a turn on if Keith were being completely honest. Keith tried not to show how pleased he was as he walked into the café that also doubled as a terrarium.

 _Peach Pit_ , the name of the café, was littered with a variety of plants, vines, and colorful flowers that decorated the walls and various artsy shelves. The beauty of it made Keith pause in the door way, eyes wide with wonder. It confused Keith as to why they’re weren’t more people packed into such a calm atmospheric eatery, but in no way was he complaining about it.

Keith caught sight of the wide array of desserts and bakery items behind the display glass. Captivated, Keith wondered further into the shop, gaze immediately landing on the three layer cakes and then to the intricately decorated parfaits that looked too pretty to eat.

It was second nature for Keith’s eyes to stray for a price tag, and when he found it, he finally understood why there wasn’t a big college crowd.

Keith recoiled as if slapped.

“Shiro—”

A hand landed reassuringly on the small of his back, penetrating warmth through his clothes. “Pick whatever you want Keith, it’s on me.”

Keith studied Shiro’s face, pondering to himself whether it was okay. He didn’t enjoy the idea of being indebted to anyone, let alone a stranger he’d just met, but Shiro’s face was nothing if not genuine and sincere, and Keith slowly nodded his head, accepting the offer.

Shiro’s subsequent smile was blinding and it took Keith a moment to recover from it.

Despite having been given free rein over the menu, Keith was still a decent enough human being to choose on the cheaper side of the menu. On Shiro’s recommendation however, he also ordered a cappuccino that the other man said balanced out the sweetness of the cake Keith had chosen.

Keith’s brow rose at that.

“A connoisseur too? Wow, I lucked out, man.”

Shiro softly nudged Keith in response to his teasing.

“Shut up.”

Shiro handed his card over with an easy flare that told Keith he wasn’t hurting on money. He made small talk with the woman who was working the front register. It was obvious that Shiro visited enough that he and the woman were on familiar terms. They spoke each other’s names without any of that cardboard stiltedness of being awkward acquaintances.

Shiro had quickly introduced Keith and the woman who’s name he’d forgotten almost right after. The woman had looked at Keith with dimmed eyes and a weak half smile, which told Keith she’d been holding out hope that maybe the handsome regular visiting her shop might have been coming back for _her_ and not the just cake. Keith smiled back, a sympathetic, knowing thing.

After the transaction was finished, Shiro guided Keith to a table ways enough away from the front register and any prying eyes or ears. The space was cozy and intimate; the tables were a deep cherry wood with suave cushioned booths and the took their seat opposite of each other.

Keith’s mouth quirked as he said, “You take boys here often, Shirogane? Is this your _spot_?” He teased lightheartedly.

Shiro chuckled, watching Keith with that warm self-possessed gaze. Keith almost told him to stop because it was highly distracting and it was spurring involuntary reactions from his body that Keith couldn’t rightly control.

Keith shifted subtlety.

“Just the ones I’m trying _super_ hard to impress.” Shiro winked, a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes that struck through the very core of Keith, and made his stomach flip with a flutter of nerves that he could feel behind his belly button. It made his mouth dry, tongue rough like sandpaper. 

That—that was—that was just _unfair_. He couldn’t just do that, could he?

He’d given Shiro the perfect ammo and the other man hadn’t hesitated in handing the sass right back, but Shiro really needed to stop before he gave Keith a premature heart attack. It seemed like the chances were becoming more likely as blood begrudgingly rushed hot to his shoulders and up his neck, but it was the tips of his ears that gave Keith away.

Shiro practically beamed at him, and while Keith was usually livid about how people continuously pestered him for easily he seemed to blush, Shiro’s amusement in it didn’t resonate to Keith as mocking or mean.

“ _Oh man_ ,” Shiro grinned ear-to-ear from across the table, eyes bright, and it was an utterly devastating look for him. Shiro had to know that—had to know what that look could get him. He was dissecting Keith’s face with an intimidating kind of attentiveness. Keith didn’t know what Shiro was looking for, but whatever he found, the other man ate it up like Keith was something to be devoured, and then savored on the pallet of his tongue.

“What?” Keith asked, mouth twisting with embarrassment he couldn’t will away.

Shiro shook just his head. “It’s nothing. I just think you’re cute.”

Keith huffed, scratching at the back of his neck as the tips of his ears practically started radiating heat.

“Oh my god— _shut up_.”

“Nah,” Shiro said, amused at Keith’s expense. He snorted a laugh at Keith’s following half-assed glare in his direction, deflecting it completely with his well-meaning nature. He gently nudged his foot against Keith’s under the table, and Keith pressed back without a thought, unable to keep the timid smile off his face that he covered with the palm of his hand.

The food came quickly.

Keith’s slice of chocolate cake was elegantly decorated with sweet caramel sauce looped in intricate swirls with a smattering of coco powder decorating the rim of the plate. His cappuccino was big enough to swim in and the aroma was utterly delightful. It had been a while since Keith had had coffee that wasn’t either watered down or tasted like burnt dirt.

His mouth watered expectantly.

Shiro had ordered some tart, fruit concoction that was doused in an indulgent amount of real whip crème and strawberry sauce. His cappuccino identical to Keith’s.

If Shiro noticed Keith waiting for him to take the first bite, he hadn’t said anything, just gestured at Keith with his fork and said: “Tell me what you think.”

The cake made a soft, sponge like noise as Keith cut into it with the side of his fork, gathering an equal amount of icing, caramel sauce, and cake onto the prongs. He brought the mouth full to his lips and saw Shiro had paused in his own activity to watch Keith take his first bite. Keith was bold and daring as he made and kept eye contact with Shiro, practically sucking the fork clean as he pulled the utensil back slowly. He almost cried at the explosion of flavor that overwhelmed his taste buds and swept up his jaw in a tingle of sensation.

Keith chewed slowly, savoring what was probably the best chocolate cake he’d ever had in his life.

His eyes fell closed.

“ _Damn_ ,” Keith said, and then whistled lowly under his breath.

Shiro hummed, obviously pleased.

“You liked it.”

That seemed like a huge understatement.

“Afraid so,” Keith said with a moroseness that he didn’t feel.

He leaned back into the booth, shaking his head slowly. “You’ve ruined all other kinds of chocolate cake for me. Betty Crocker and Pillsbury just isn’t gonna cut it anymore.”

Shiro laughed and finally took a bite from his own.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Keith snorted as he took another bite.

“I bet you are,” Keith said. Whether he meant for it to come out as coy as it did, Keith wasn’t completely sure.

Shiro’s brows rose.

“Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

His grin was devilishly wicked and Keith flushed for the umpteenth time. He had to take a sip from his cappuccino to re-gather himself as his eyes moved off somewhere towards the side.  

“Nothing that you don’t already know.”

Shiro said nothing as he watched Keith, his expression thoughtful and considering. It looked like he wanted to say something, the words right behind his teeth, but he was deciding on how best to say them. That made Keith nervous and anxious, but he didn’t rush Shiro, just allowed him the time to collect his thoughts and decide whether he wanted to voice them or not.

“Shameless flirting aside,” Shiro began after a moment. “Tell me a little about yourself. What are you studying?”

Keith put down his fork and took a quick sip of his cappuccino before he answered Shiro.

This he could easily do.

“I’m in the arts program—music,” Keith clarified. “I dabble in a little bit of everything—piano, drums, and guitar—but I’m pretty sure I was born to play cello.”

Shiro’s brows rose, impressed. “Man, that’s… _a lot_ of instruments you can play. I’ve never been musically inclined. I sing off key in the shower and play the air guitar whenever I’m blaring AC/DC in my apartment, but that’s pretty much it.” Shiro laughed. He looked at Keith, eyes roaming over his face with a new, considering light.

“How did you even manage to learn so many?”

Keith shrugged and took another bite.

“I don’t know. I was a weird kid who didn’t fit in well—a kid with some anger issues who got into fights and needed some sort of outlet for it.” He struggled for what to say, not because it was difficult to talk about, but because to Keith, it wasn’t that remarkable of a story. “In elementary school my music teacher noticed that the only time I looked mildly calm was when I was playing some sort of musical instrument. She told my dad and he had me signed up for piano lessons the day right after.”

Keith huffed a laugh at the memory, brushing his bangs out his eyes as he looked at Shiro.

“What about you?”

Shiro moved a chunk of fruit around on his plate, completely uninterested in it compared to Keith.

“Oh, it’s a typically average story,” Shiro began. “Family of four—me being the youngest—grew up in the suburbs, played every sport known to man in high school, took a two-year break after high school to just experience life and mess around, messed around and made some mistakes, learned from them, and now I’m months away from finishing my engineering degree.” He took a sip. “I’m painfully boring, I know.” He joked.

Keith shook his head, understanding the feeling. “Somehow, I think that’s the farthest thing from what you are.”

Shiro smiled and tilted his head just slightly, eyes narrowing with a thought.

“You know, I think I just might like you.”

Keith smirked.

“Lucky for me, I think I just might like you too.”

* * *

 

Keith had never talked so much.

It was a rarity when he wanted too, but Shiro looked at Keith like he wanted to hear whatever he had to say, and the words came so easily then. Keith found that he didn’t want to stop.

They talk for at least an hour in the alcove they’ve temporarily made their own, unconsciously drifting closer. The things they talk about range from the places they want to travel in the next ten years, to the dangerous precipice of politics that thankfully, they mostly agree on, and which Chuck Palahnuik novel is their favorite.

“It’s _Fight Club_ —it _has_ to be. That book fucked me up.” Shiro said

Keith clicked his teeth, shaking his head like he pitied Shiro for his ignorance.

“ _Survivor_ , is the best by far.” Keith began. “I was in the eighth grade when I first read that fucking book. I only ever read Harry Potter and Eragon, but a friend lent me it and I was utterly blown away by how good it was. That book changed reading for me, man. Yeah, _Fight Club_ was great, but _Survivor_ made me _feel_ something.”

Keith’s impassionate speech had Shiro softly laughing, shaking his head fondly. Keith sat back and silently chided himself for being one of those people he usually made fun of.

Outside the shop, the sky had gone noticeably darker and Keith checked his phone for the time. He was sad to find that if he wanted to make it to his afternoon class, he would have to leave soon. It was sobering thought; leaving this atmosphere they’d created together that resonated as warm and welcoming to Keith. Shiro must’ve guessed what had Keith’s expression souring as he softly asked, “Time to go?”

Keith swallowed, nodded his head.

“Yeah, my next class starts in thirty minutes.” He raked his fingers back through his hair, sighing when his bangs just fell back into his face. “Uh, this was, really nice. Thanks for inviting me. I had fun talking with you.” Keith looked at Shiro in the eye, hoping what he couldn’t so easily communicate was clear—that Shiro would understand.

“Hey, thanks for saying yes. I had fun talking to you too…”

Keith hesitated rising from his seat. His lips parted for words he was too much of a coward to say, but Shiro—god bless him—took the decision out of Keith’s hands.

“Hey, you know, if you’d want, I’d like to do this again. Except take you out somewhere really nice next time.”

Keith can’t help but to laugh at that, charmed.

“Shiro, I can only imagine what ‘really nice’ means to you if this place—” Keith gestured around them—“is below your date standards. My prom date honest to god took me to McDonalds, realized he forgot his wallet, and then made _me_ pay. I promise, you’re doing just fine.”

“Are you serious? You went to prom?”

Keith rolled his eyes and flipped Shiro off.

“Of course, that would be what you’d take from that,” Keith laughed under his breath. “Yeah, it was—you know how everyone gets about prom.” Keith said. “‘You’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t go Keith,’ so I thought why not and went with another one of the few openly gay kids in my town. I mostly ate and talked with friends who realized we’d probably would’ve had more fun going to the movies and ordering pizza. You?”

Shiro shook his head. “I didn’t go to mine—thought I was too cool.”

Keith’s brow rose at that.

“What’d you do instead?”

Shiro’s mouth curved gradually before his teeth gleamed in a grin. It was mischievous and told Keith everything he needed to know. The memories where obviously fond ones for Shiro and Keith’s curiosity peaked a thousand-fold.

Shiro glanced at the watch on his wrist.

“Afraid we don’t have time for that story," Shiro winked. “Gotta get you back to class.”

* * *

 

Jason was radio silent for three days before he finally resurfaced on Keith’s radar.

It wasn’t uncommon for them to go days without talking if their schedules were busy enough. There were never any hard feelings; they were both introverted by nature and had confidence in the strength of their friendship to know they didn’t need to text or talk every day to know they were best friends.

However, even though Keith wouldn’t admit it, he was concerned for his friend.

There was a nagging feeling in the back of his skull that wouldn’t leave Keith alone, so on a night when he knew they were both free, Keith stopped by a Chinese take-out and ordered his and Jason’s favorites. He made it in less than ten minutes to Jason’s apartment, having shot him a quick text alerting the older man Keith was coming over before he got the food.

Keith still had a copy of one of Jason’s keys when he’d been looking for a place of his own, and Jason had graciously let him crash on his couch for a month. Jason hadn’t asked Keith for the key back, and when Keith had left it on Jason’s kitchen table for him to easily find, he found it mysteriously back in his own possession yet again.

It was only when Keith walked in, ready to dryly announce his presences and his gracious gift of food, that Keith’s whole body froze. His eyes widened in shock and his heart instinctively galloped at what greeted him.

Jason was having sex—the loud, mind blowing kind apparently—and Keith vaguely wondered how his neighbors slept peacefully at night, because _holy shit_ —

Suddenly, Jason’s disappearing act made sense, like Keith had finally found the missing puzzle piece under the couch and could see the picture in its full entirety.

Despite Keith’s curiosity about who managed to ensnare his best friend for three days, Keith didn’t feel the need to stay or hear any more than he already had.

Keith winced as he stepped quietly towards the coffee table and placed the flimsy plastic bag on top of it. He removed Jason’s beef and broccoli and potstickers and searched for something he could write on. He almost jumped when something heavy, coming from Jason’s bedroom, banged up against the wall with a resonance that echoed throughout the entire apartment. The following euphoric moan made Keith look up wirily at the door to Jason’s bedroom, thankfully closed, as he laughed under his breath and shook his head.

Luckily, he found a notebook resting on Jason’s couch and flipped to a clean page.

_Congratulations on the sex, but check your phone next time asshole. I bought you Chinese, but obviously, you have company…_

_Enjoy - K_

Keith quietly made his exit just as the cries started reaching their peak, awkwardly shifting on his feet. His heart was pounding loudly inside his ears by the time he reached his car and quickly climbed in, brushing his hair back from his warm face. Keith was only reminded how lonely and frustrated he was from the bizarre experience. His year long dry spell never seemed more obvious than it did now.

As Keith started his car, he told himself he wasn’t jealous of Jason, who was currently having his world rocked, and then _some_.

His back molars ground together unconsciously as the memory persisted and his body naturally reacted.

Yep, he wasn’t jealous. Not at all.

* * *

 

 **jason:** holy shit

 **jason:** KEITH

 **jason:** i don’t deserve you man. i promise we’ll get together soon. i’ve just been...busy

 **me:** nicolas cage meme ‘you don’t say.’

 **me:** who is he? he’s loud as fuck. no wonder you didn’t hear the front door open.

 **jason:** lol. i’ll tell you when i see you. i gotta be at work soon, but thanks for the food. i didn’t come outta my room until like 12 in the morning, but it was still good cold. that place is the best. we’ll do something this weekend, my treat.

 **me:** ah. can’t

 **jason:** ??? why ???

 **me:** :)))))

 **jason:** ???

 **me:** i have a date, fucker. that’s why.

 **jason:** !!!!

 **jason:** WTF WITH WHO

 **me:** hmm, i’ll tell you when i see you…

 **jason:** touche, you bastard. have fun. be safe.

 **jason:** don’t get pregnant. you’ll get chlamydia and die.

 **me** : yeah, yeah whatevs coach carr

 **jason** : look here you little shit

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
